


Pillow Talk

by winterwaters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family Visit, Fluff, PWP, Plot What Plot, Seriously it's just sex, Smut, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:03:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a full list of things Bellamy had expected from this weekend trip to visit Clarke’s family. Standing in Clarke’s childhood bedroom, while she grinned at him wearing nothing but the tiniest, most sinful scraps of red cloth he’d ever seen, was <em>not</em> on that list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enoughtotemptme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enoughtotemptme/gifts).



> Because I am a huge loser who forgot to wish you happy birthday. I hope this makes up for it ;D

There was a full list of things Bellamy had expected from this weekend trip to visit Clarke’s family.

 **One:** He would have to bring the best clothes he owned. Which meant, he needed to go shopping. Badly. Thankfully, Octavia had been more than eager to take care of that.

 **Two:** Brushing up on current politics would almost certainly be necessary, what with Clarke’s doctor-turned-senator of a mother. One of her cousins was running for office too, if he remembered correctly. He really needed to find out which one.

 **Three:** He had to make several playlists for the five-hour drive to Virginia. There was no doubt they would both be stressed as hell, and as he’d found in the past, music tended to be a beautiful distraction.

 **Four:** Clarke’s favorite bakery opened at 6a.m. He was sure as hell stopping there before they left to get her several chocolate croissants to last the weekend. And two extra, for her to consume on the road.

 **Five:** He needed to not sweat through his clothes by the time they reached her parents’ house. Forget the other cousins who'd be staying with them, he just wasn't sure if he was supposed to be more wary of her mother or her father. 

**Six:** Every time he got nervous, he had to remember that he if he’d managed to survive years as a Lieutenant in the army _and_ find a girl like Clarke Griffin, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

As far as lists went, this one was pretty damn well thought-out. Or so he thought.

Standing in Clarke’s childhood bedroom, while she grinned at him wearing nothing but the tiniest, most sinful scraps of red cloth he’d ever seen, was _not_ on that list.

Yet here he was, on their final night in her old home, staring stupidly at the gorgeous woman in front of him. 

His last thought as he’d hopped up the stairs, skipping the creaky top step, had been that _maybe_ , just maybe, he could breathe normally again. Having lasted the whole weekend, including an impromptu fishing trip with her father and cooking a meal for family dinner, had left him feeling quite proud of himself. Not to mention, managing to survive The Talk with her dad in a small canoe on nothing but open water had closely rivaled some of his toughest army training as a cadet.

So as he strolled down the hall, Bellamy was feeling pretty damn good.

That was, until he’d stepped inside their room and found Clarke in nothing but a threadbare robe, a familiar smirk on her face. Seconds later, the breath had been knocked out of him altogether as she chucked the robe to reveal those tiny red pieces of fabric that were doing absolutely nothing to hide her body. He’d nearly slammed the door shut in his haste. 

Then, as he swore to forever tell it afterwards, Clarke jumped his bones.

Her lips attacked his with a surprising but not unwelcome vigor, and for several long moments Bellamy could only tangle his fingers into her hair, licking eagerly into her mouth. As he registered the taste of chocolate, he absently wondered if she’d found the last croissant he’d been hiding for their trip back. It was only when Clarke whined and pushed him back against the door with a smack that he somewhat came to his senses. 

Hands firmly clamped on her shoulders, Bellamy drew back in shaky protest. “Wait,” he croaked. “You- we… we can’t.”

“Says who?” She was breathless, her chest flushed and cheeks rosy as the fingers curled into his hair tried to urge him back.

“I-I… uh-” 

Clarke raised an eyebrow, smirking. His hands dug grooves into her arms as she nipped along his neck, pausing deliberately at his pulse point. A low groan started in the back of his throat, but the sound of faint shuffling in the hall brought him back to reality all too fast. He’d just managed to swallow the sound when her mother’s voice filtered through the door.

“You kids good?”

Clarke’s grin was seven kinds of illegal as she twisted her hips into his, nearly making his eyes roll back into his skull. “Yeah, we’re good, mom,” she called. “Thanks.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word when Bellamy chose that moment to palm her breasts in retaliation. A small measure of satisfaction ran through him when her head dropped back on a silent gasp.

“Alright. There’s an extra space heater in the spare room downstairs if you get cold.” 

Bellamy took one look at the girl in his arms and raised an eyebrow. _Not likely._ Clarke grinned back, her pink lips already begging to be kissed again. "Okay, got it," she replied.

“Night, sweetie,” Abby called. “Goodnight, Bellamy.”

He gulped. “Night, Mrs. Griffin.” _I really hope my voice doesn’t sound like I’m about to fuck your daughter’s brains out. Or vice versa._

His ears strained for the sound of fading footsteps even as Clarke’s mouth returned to his pulse point. As soon as he heard the distant click of the door, he set his hands on her waist and pushed. She got the hint and began walking backwards, all but dragging him along with a hand fisted in his shirt. When they hit the opposite wall, she pulled him close with a wicked grin, rolling her hips forcefully against his. 

“Jesus. Fuck. Clarke, please.” He didn’t know if he was begging for her to stop or continue. _Who was he kidding?_ Clarke hummed into his mouth, hitching a leg around his waist to rock more purposely against him. Bellamy swore again, knocking their foreheads together. “We’re in your _parents’_ house,” he whispered hoarsely. “They are _down the fucking hall._ Your cousins are downstairs!"

“Thank you Captain Obvious.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Don’t tell me you’re not turned on.”

A hand snuck between them to grasp his already hardening length through his trousers, and he dropped his head into her shoulder with a barely muffled moan. “Princess, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered.

“Mmm, but what a way to go.” Her laugh tinkled in his ear, making him grin wildly against her bare skin.

“What’s gotten into you?” He lifted his head, nipping gently at her swollen lips. “Not that I’m complaining. _At all.”_

Clarke’s answering smile was brighter than the sun as she curled her arms around his neck, smacking his cheek in a kiss. “We made it!” she said, giddy. “We made it through the whole weekend. They all love you, Bell.”

She was radiating pure joy from every pore of her body, and he was helpless not to smile back. “I’m glad,” he replied honestly. “But even if they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be going anywhere. You know that.”

“I know. That's why _I_ love you.” Clarke kissed him, softly at first, but it quickly became more insistent until they were both pressed flush together against the wall, her nearly naked body squirming against his fully clothed one. Bellamy gave one last tug at her lower lip before moving to worry the skin behind her ear. His fingers traveled slowly down her side, hooking into the flimsy material at her hips. 

“You did _not_ own this before Friday,” he accused. He would know, after all. “Did you get it just to drive me insane?”

“Something like that,” she replied breathily, arching her neck to give him more room. Bellamy took her skin between his teeth, relishing the gasp that flew from her mouth. His tongue soothed the area moments later, intent on marking her. He loved to do so, and she loved having them, even if she pretended to complain about having to use extra makeup the next day. “It- it was an impulse buy,” she panted. “Probably paid too much. Don’t care.”

Satisfied with the bloom forming by her ear, he moved down along her neck and shoulder until his teeth nudged the barely-there strap of her bra. “So I shouldn’t rip it, then?”

Her head tipped back with a soft moan, her hips bucking helplessly in answer, and now it was Bellamy’s turn to smirk. His fingers dipped between her thighs, stroking through the dampness he already knew he’d find. Clarke stifled a gasp into his shoulder, her hips canting upwards to spur him on.

“Been planning this for a while, princess?” He murmured.

“Bell,” she mewled softly into his ear and he moved down to a cloth covered breast. Easily nudging the fabric aside, he took a peaked nipple into his mouth, humming when her fingers threaded into his hair. He flicked his tongue over the tight bud, tugging and teasing with his teeth until it was stiff to his satisfaction. The same attention was given to the other one until she was writhing, and fuck, he was tempted to stay there all night. 

But Clarke was having trouble keeping quiet - he knew she would, she was never quiet, he loved that about her - and as much as he wanted keep teasing, he didn’t like that he wouldn’t be able to hear her responses. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun.

After all, she’d started this little game, but he was going to finish it properly.

Bellamy sank to his knees, and with one hard twist, ripped the offending red fabric off her body, feeling her nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders. Without pausing, he tossed one long leg over his shoulder, opening her pink, wet folds to his hungry gaze. When she sighed his name, he looked up with a cunning grin to find her hazy blue eyes staring back. “Quiet, princess,” was his only warning before his mouth closed over her cunt.

Clarke jerked and gasped as his tongue dove into her folds, a hand curling into his hair. An appreciative moan rumbled in his throat as he tasted her, burying his face as close as he could get. He licked into her without abandon, perfectly aware that she could hear the sounds of it, feeling her hips rock in time to his tongue. It wasn’t long before Clarke began to tremble in earnest, her legs straining to clamp shut. Glancing up once, Bellamy smiled when he saw her head tipping back against the wall.

Shifting one hand around to the globe of her ass, he gave her a small pinch. She squeaked adorably and stared down at him in question from hooded eyes.

“Watch me,” he said, and felt the shudder that rippled through her body.

Keeping his eyes on hers, he carried on fucking her with his tongue, watching her lips part in a silent _o_ as the fingers in his hair twisted almost painfully. When he began to play with her clit, one of Clarke’s hands left his hair to clamp tightly over her mouth. Then he sucked the little bundle of nerves into his mouth and Clarke spasmed around his tongue, mouth open in a silent cry as she curled over him. Bellamy rode it out with her, lapping gently at her release until finally she sagged against the wall, breathing heavily. 

He stood and took her into his arms, kissing her softly, letting her come down from the high on her own time. Her body continued to shake for a few moments longer, but slowly her grip on his back began to tighten.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” she murmured drowsily, and he laughed against her lips. God, he loved her.

“Never crossed my mind.”

Clarke began to respond more insistently, her lips slanting warmly against his as her hands began to wander of their own accord, and it was Bellamy’s turn to hope that _he_ could be quiet.

Eventually her hands crawled under his shirt to rake down his back and along his abs, making him sigh as her nails raked over his skin. She began to fumble at his shirt buttons while he turned his attention to removing the second half of her flimsy red set. Clarke’s mouth was back on his skin as soon as his shirt was off, tongue eagerly mapping out the dips and grooves of his muscles. Knowing him all too well, her fingers pressed into the base of his spine, and Bellamy felt her grin smugly as his hips shot forward.

Then she was undoing his belt buckle and shoving at his pants and briefs. Kicking them off, Bellamy braced an arm against the wall as her hot little hands wrapped around his stiff cock, wasting no time pumping along his length and making him push helplessly into her grip. He swore and grabbed her waist with the intention of pulling her back to the bed.

But Clarke resisted, grinning and shaking her head. “It creaks.” With a pointed glance, she flattened herself against the wall. His cock twitched in realization and he kissed her fiercely, partly to silence his groan and partly because he just had to. Her lips left his to trail a path along his jaw before biting down on his earlobe. 

“What do you think, Lieutenant?” Clarke’s whisper was hot in his ear. “You up to it?” 

Bellamy growled. “Oh, princess. You have no idea.”

This time she wasn’t expecting it when he swung her away from the wall, so she barely managed to contain her yelp of surprise. Banding an arm around her waist, he pulled her back flush against his chest and walked her towards the bed, which was high enough on its frame to fit what he had in mind.

Lining her shoulder with kisses, he murmured, “There are other ways to make use of a creaky bed, you know.”

Smugly, he watched goosebumps break out over Clarke’s skin. Once they were close enough, he put a hand to her back, urging her to bend over the edge of the mattress, keeping her legs firmly planted on the floor. Clarke shoved her face into the sheets with a strangled moan as soon as she caught on to his intentions. His hands stroked lightly up and down her sides, pausing at her hips. “Okay?” He asked.

“God, yes,” she nodded frantically, and a wicked smile curled his lips.

He took an extra second to admire the sight of her before him, his finger drawing a single torturous line down her spine before finally parting her legs. Holding her hips steady, he swiped a finger over her folds, finding her more than wet enough. Clarke reached out blindly, snagging the first pillow she found and sinking her teeth into it.

It took everything he had to slide in slowly, wanting to prolong this for both of them. His lungs forgot how to work for a few seconds as her muscles clamped down. “Jesus,” he muttered, his eyes nearly rolling back. Clarke’s fingers were twisted into the sheets. Bellamy lingered, not moving, just savoring the feeling of her hot and pulsing around his cock. But when she whimpered and pushed back against him, his restraint began to slip. He drew out, deliberately slow, then snapped his hips into hers. Clarke barely managed to stifle her cry into the pillow. 

He was just about to repeat the process when a loud _creak_ echoed through the house. It was that damn top step that he’d been cursing all weekend; he was suddenly very thankful for its existence. Leaning over until he was draped atop her, Bellamy put his lips to her ear, feeling her shiver.

“Tell me your door’s locked.”

“Locked,” she confirmed on a breath. 

“Good,” he said, then slid his arms over hers, linking their fingers as he pushed back inside her. She exhaled raggedly, helpless to do much else. Her hand gripped his with an intensity that belied her struggle not to make a sound.

 _Knock knock knock._ “Clarke?” 

They both froze, equal parts horrified and hysterical at the sound of her cousin’s voice. _Dale? Dan?_ Try as he might, Bellamy could not remember his name. Though, in his current situation, he figured he could be forgiven for that. He really did _not_ want Clarke to answer, but seeing as they’d left the light on, it was assumed they were awake.

“Y-yeah Dean?” Clarke called weakly. _Dean. Right._

“Do you know where Tina left her coloring book? She said you put it in your purse while we were at the zoo earlier.”

Bellamy nearly groaned out loud. _Of course_ she fucking had, with her huge bag that seemingly everything disappeared into. “You just _had_ to be helpful,” he mumbled, nibbling her earlobe.

Clarke bit her lower lip, hard, and sucked in a breath. “It’s… I took it out in the car because she was going to color on the way home, but she fell asleep instead.”

He didn’t know if she was lying through her teeth or just incredibly good at stringing together a sentence despite her current state, but he was fairly proud of her in that moment either way. “Must be in the car,” she finished, rubbing her backside against him in a particularly dangerous manner. His mouth latched onto the curve of her neck to stifle his grunt, one of his hands drifting further down to pinch her nipple in response. She bucked and bit the pillow. 

“Awesome, thanks Clarke! Have a good night,” came the chipper reply.

“You too,” she managed.

As soon as they heard the loud squeak of the top step again, Bellamy wasted no time drilling into her, one hand nearly bruising her hip while the other still clutched hers atop the mattress. His breath came in harsh pants that formed her name in a desperate chant. Clarke had her face almost entirely pressed into the pillow, turned just enough that she could still breathe properly, and so he could see the way her eyes were shut tight, her mouth open in complete bliss. With every thrust, his control unraveled more and more until they were both dangerously close to alerting not just the household, but the entire neighborhood of their activities.

Hearing Clarke's telltale gasps increase by the second, Bellamy shifted to work his hand between her and the mattress, circling her clit. Her eyes sprang open with a tiny cry. It was only seconds before Clarke came apart, moaning and cursing into the crook of her arms. The sight, combined with the clench of her walls around his cock, was too much, and he shoved his face between her shoulder blades as he spent himself with a final thrust.

Though Bellamy's legs trembled in protest, he waited a moment, then essentially threw himself next to Clarke on the bed, not wanting to crush her with his weight. She was still facedown, clutching the pillow in a death grip. Despite his lungs having their own priorities at the moment - needing to gulp air, and all - he managed to curl an arm about her waist, dragging her fully onto the bed with him. He could deal with the fact that they were entirely sideways later. After that neither of them moved again for several minutes, both panting heavily in an effort to calm their bodies. 

“Jesus Christ, princess.” His voice was no more than a croak. 

“Mmm,” came her satisfied reply. She lazily rolled to her back, stretching her limbs. 

Bellamy grinned, glancing over at her lithe form sprawled next to him, her golden hair fanning out like a halo. A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin. He leaned over, tongue sneaking out for a taste. At her small hum, he peppered light kisses on her forehead, her eyelids, her smiling cheeks. Clarke wrapped shaking arms around his shoulders and kissed him languidly, only interrupted by her occasional fit of giggles. Bellamy chuckled and rolled to his side, tucking her more securely against him.

She swung a bare leg over his hip, her hands threading into his damp hair as she grinned dazedly at him. “So I guess I should buy more of those underwear sets.”

“I will rip every single one,” he vowed.

“Sounds like a win-win situation for everyone involved.”

**Author's Note:**

> never thought I would post this one, tbh, but I guess never say never XD


End file.
